The fact that he'd slept after his nightmare was bordering on a miracle.

Walking into work the next morning, he was generally physically rested but mentally bleak and emotionally wrecked, which dragged him down to fatigued levels anyway. That was something he was used to, something familiar.

Hawkeye took one look at him and knew. She didn't reprimand him for his tiredness with her eyes, contrary to last time he had walked in after only four hours of sleep. She gave him this haunted, knowing look, which told Roy he must have a very distinct haunted look of his own. She'd always known when he stayed up irresponsibly and when it was nightmares that kept him up. In all the years they'd been working together she'd never gotten it wrong. He didn't question it; it was Riza Hawkeye.

Her shrewd eyes glanced between him and Ed, lingering on Ed a moment longer. She rose from her seat. "Good morning, sir."

"Good morning." Roy nodded at her, his stomach churning at the look in her eye. She had something she wanted to say, so he gestured for her to enter his inner office after him and Ed.

Once the door shut behind them, Roy was walking to his desk as he said, "What is it, Lieutenant?"

Riza paused by the door. "Sir, Fuhrer Grumman has inquired about the status of your next report."

Roy froze. Thank God he'd just sat down.

Shit. Shit—

He cleared his throat and bought himself some time by appearing distracted arranging his desk for the day. His heart rate spiked to dangerous levels. He'd— "Of course, I will hand it in today."

"He forgot," Ed so helpfully pointed out.

"I'm aware," Riza deadpanned.

Roy was sweating. How could he have forgotten to write a report to the Fuhrer? Things were worse than he'd thought. He hadn't just lost some of his marbles, he'd lost all of his marbles.

He waved a hand. "All will be fine."

Riza sighed. "If you're certain, sir." But the look she gave him was one of concern, and he knew that meant his general dishevelment was becoming obvious.

Roy gave her a reassuring smile. "I've had a lot on my mind, Lieutenant, that is all. I will make sure the report is on the Fuhrer's desk by the end of today."

He hoped he could keep that promise, because he actually had no idea what to even write in this report. The bond had, weirdly, not been his first priority these past few days. Or week. It hadn't been on the forefront of his mind so heavily. His mind had been taken over by Ed.

The moment Hawkeye exited his office, Ed casually strolled over to the front of his desk. He watched as Roy rubbed at his face in utter stress. He couldn't hide it from Ed, so he might as well express it physically.

God, he was tired. And stressed. But at the same time so emotionally depleted he struggled to give a shit about anything—even the fact that he was late with delivering a report to the Fuhrer he hadn't even started writing.

Ed's hands were casually in his pockets as he said, "I'll help."

His fingers circled his temples as he grumbled, "How generous of you."

Ed smirked, raising a hand, pointer finger raised. "But." Of course. "You never get to give me shit about a report ever again."

Roy leaned back in his chair, narrowing his eyes. The audacity of this stunning young man was truly astounding. "Look at you, trying to twist this to your advantage."

Ed's eyes sparkled in fond amusement. "Learned from the best I guess."

Roy rolled his eyes. "Don't say it like that. It makes me sound old."

"You are old."

He sighed. Why had he thought Ed would stop with that now that they…well. "And you're into—"

"Old men. Yeah, sure." Ed laughed, biting his bottom lip as he fought a massive grin.

Fondness gripped his chest as he opened his drawer and pulled out a blank sheet of paper. "You do know bargaining like that doesn't work against your commanding officer." His lips twitched up and he battled it with all his might. He met Ed's eyes again. "I can just order you to help me." He paused. "Hell, I could order you to write it for me."

"You wouldn't." The slight horror in his tone made him chuckle.

He picked up a pen, even though the last thing he wanted to do right now was work. It was scary how much he just wanted to be locked into his bedroom with Ed.

He gestured for Ed to take a seat on one of the couches as he usually did, but Ed frowned. "That's too far away, I wanna see what you write."

Of course, he wanted to look over his shoulder and make Roy feel like a pupil with the pressure to get his notes right under the scrutinising gaze of his teacher.

Ed came round to Roy's side of the desk and leaned against the wood with his hip. Was Roy truly expected to write coherent sentences when Ed's hips were so close to his face? "How much do you need me to bullshit?"

"Two pages. Front and back."

Ed smirked, crossing his arms. "I've got enough alkahestry to boggle his mind with." He bumped Roy's arm with his hip. "He'll think you're a genius by the end of this report."

Roy leaned back in his chair and swivelled to face Ed, and God, from this angle, he was stunning. From all angles he was stunning. "I could never take credit for your brilliant brain."

Ed's smirk widened, his eyes shining with teasing amusement, and he was simply gorgeous. Despite the tiredness weighing him down, arousal flared in the pit of his stomach. The urge to rest his hands on those narrow hips, to have Ed straddle him, to—

Was this what complete and utter infatuation felt like? How could people live like this? This was why the world barely functioned. How did people get anything done while being plagued like this?

Ed chuckled, but his eyes flashed with a need that matched his own. "Report first."

Well, that was one way to get a man motivated. Though, really, they had at least eight hours before he could make those fantasies a reality, in the comfort of his home.

Now, Ed was untouchable. Which made Roy want him even more.

But how could he not, when he was still here, bantering with him, helping him, wanting him, after last night? Ed accepted him. The real him. Not the stoic General Roy Mustang he portrayed all the time, not the womanising bastard with a god complex—but Roy. He accepted weak, irritable Roy.

The feelings that thought elicited were mixed; he hadn't fully shed the shame he'd felt last night, and truthfully he didn't think he ever would fully shed it. He was ashamed of the things he'd done and the man he was, but he would keep Ed for himself all the same. For as long as Ed wanted to be kept. For as long as they could afford to indulge in this want that was making Roy feel lighter than he ever had.

Ed did indeed lean over him while he wrote, golden eyes taking in every single stroke of Roy's pen, reading every word. While his scent and his proximity made him want to reach out and put a very early end to the work day, Roy had gone into work mode after the first five minutes—after which it became evident that he was, in fact, slightly fucked—and was determined to write this report before their lunch hour.

But his first draft was looking more like scribbles than words.

"Why don't you understand what I'm trynna say?" Ed's voice held more than a bit of annoyance. His scowl had greeted Roy approximately twenty minutes ago and had yet to retreat.

Roy refused to put his pen down even though his hand itched to hurl it across the room. "I have absolutely no knowledge in alkahestry, you've been reading about it for days. I'm starting to believe you're better off writing this—"

"No."

Now Roy did let his pen fall on the paper, as he needed his hand to rub at his eyes. He now fully shared Ed's sentiments that these reports were a waste of time. A waste of energy. A waste of sanity.

"Ed." He placed both hands on the desk, swivelling his chair to face him. Ed just scowled down at him. "It's been an hour and I have five decent sentences. Barely a paragraph."

Ed huffed, crossing his arms. "Now you know how I felt all these years."

Roy's breath left him in a harsh exhale as he leaned back in his chair. He needed coffee.

Exhaustion hit him like a punch in the gut, and suddenly he could barely keep his eyes open. A yawn took over, and he watched as Ed mirrored it a second later, grumbling.

He stared at the ceiling as he took a deep breath. "I wish we could go back to bed," he mumbled.

Ed sighed, averting his gaze to the sad excuse of a report on his desk. When his eyes landed back on Roy they were thoughtful, contemplative. Maybe even a bit concerned. He wordlessly moved closer, and it took Roy a second to realise Ed was straddling him, now sitting in his lap.

He jolted, opening his mouth to point out the very obvious fact that they were in the office, but Ed wrapped his arms around his neck and all the fight left him.

He blinked, absently staring at the bookshelves against the wall as his arms automatically wrapped around his torso. "Are you okay?"

It hit him, then, that he hadn't really asked Ed that question. He'd been putting up with so much of Roy's baggage, had been helping Roy be okay, but how was Ed fairing with all of this? Roy knew that he was…a lot. And the lack of decent sleep wasn't helping; he'd basically given Ed his beyond shitty sleep schedule.

He truly was so fucking selfish—

"I'm fine." Ed's muffled voice against his neck had his arms squeezing tighter around him. Precious, he was simply precious.

This was okay, wasn't it? Even if someone walked in, it wouldn't be that incriminating…Maybe Ed just needed some comfort and Roy was the good commanding officer who cared about his subordinates—

The lies he tried to feed himself were getting ridiculous. Of course this would be incriminating, but if Hawkeye were to walk in, she'd knock first. Anyone would knock first. The only people who never knocked were Maes and Ed. And Maes was definitely not coming.

Ed seemed to need this right now, and that was all that mattered.

His palm rubbed Ed's back as he asked, "Are you okay from last night?"

"I said I'm fine."

Roy sighed, but he was inclined to believe him, for it was merely tiredness that flowed through the bond. "I'm sorry you have to deal with my appalling sleeping habits."

Ed softly shrugged. "It's not a habit if you can't control it."

Roy smiled, shaking his head as he indulged in this rare moment, burying his face in the crook of Ed's neck. It was calming him; Ed was calming him. How was it that Ed's presence soothed his soul in such a way?

Could he ever just give? He always took—gained something from his interactions with Ed. He never just selflessly gave like Ed did. It made everything he did with Ed feel so incredibly selfish on his part.

Ed gently sighed and pulled back, and Roy took in his tired golden eyes, his slightly flushed cheeks, the dark circles underneath his eyes. He looked tired, goddamn it.

He frowned, cupping Ed's face and running his thumbs along those dark patches. "These are because of me."

Ed shrugged again. His eyes surveyed his face, and Roy wondered if he was studying his face like Roy was. He cared enough about him to do that, to look for the hints in his mask that pointed to what was really underneath.

His hands dropped from Ed's face, resting on his hips. His belt was in the way, the leather pants were in the way. All he wished for was skin on skin contact. Later, he reminded himself. He was already indulging too much, in a public place.

Ed reached up, pushing his hair back and easing his slight frown with his thumb. As though realising what he'd just done, he froze, and redness bloomed on his cheeks. He pulled his hand back, averting his gaze. "Shut up."

Roy smiled, trying to suppress the chuckle that threatened to come out; Ed wouldn't appreciate it. "You don't have to be embarrassed about being affectionate."

If it was even possible, Ed turned redder, and more embarrassment flowed through the bond.

Roy cocked his head, a smirk dangerously close to making an appearance. "It appears I've somehow made it worse."

Ed scowled at his chest as though too embarrassed to direct it to his face. "It's your sappiness."

"Ah," Roy said, leaning back in his chair. His hands caressed down Ed's thighs, and Ed stubbornly refused to even breathe. "Shall I stop?"

One second passed, two, three— "I didn't say that," Ed muttered, cheeks flaming, his glare boring a hole in his chest.

Roy smirked. His hands travelled back up Ed's thighs, around his hips and grabbed a handful of his backside. Ed looked at him through long lashes, and his gaze was scorching—and God, Roy wished they could go home. "That means you like it, you know that right?"

Ed's eyes narrowed. "I can easily just deck you, you know that right?"

Despite himself, he laughed. He should really control that—his laughing and smiling at Ed's threats of bodily harm was making him question his sanity.

He smirked again, gazing right into Ed's eyes flirtatiously. "If that's the way I go, Edward, I'd be honoured."

"Bastard," Ed muttered, but he pursed his lips, which meant he was stifling a smile.

"Now, now." Roy leaned forward, until their chests were almost touching. "You don't have to pretend you're mad."

Ed glared at him. "You're very deep into bastard territory right now, prick."

"Still don't know the difference between those two pet names."

Ed gaped. "They are fucking not—"

Roy kissed him. He knew he shouldn't, he knew he should wait until they were home, but it was not even halfway through the work day and he couldn't resist. Not when Ed was sitting in his lap, so close, getting more agitated with every teasing sentence of Roy's. Roy might be easy to mess with if one knew what buttons to press, but Ed was an open book, his buttons on display for all to see.

And pressing them was Roy's favourite pastime—always had been.

Ed kissed him back with a passion that always brought him to his knees. A desperation he, too, felt, a need for contact he didn't understand but terribly yearned for. Ed's fingers threaded through his hair and he pushed him back, until Roy's back hit the back of the chair.

His hands roamed, mourning the lack of skin on skin contact. His tongue caressed Ed's the way his hands longed to caress his body, and when Ed moaned Roy found himself with dangerously low levels of control.

Ed on his desk…Possibly even better than his kitchen table fantasy.

Ed broke the kiss and huffed a chuckle, warm breath hitting Roy's lips. "The door's not locked you know."

All he wanted to do was kiss him again. His hands squeezed his leather-clad ass, his groin throbbing. "I know."

Ed hands left his hair, trailing down his neck and grasping the collar of his military jacket. He smirked in amusement. "Look at you, living life on the edge." He shook his head. "And all this just to procrastinate writing the report."

"I'm not—"

Now Ed kissed him, and Roy had no complaints about being cut off. God, if they didn't stop he'd end up bending Ed over the desk and the whole office would hear them.

To his dismay it was Ed that pulled back again. His eyes were hooded, glazed, betraying his need just as much as the bond was. His hands dipped in the collar of his jacket and shirt until they reached skin, and he cupped the sides of his neck, his thumbs stroking his jaw. His hot breath hit Roy's lips with every exhale.

He was just about to lean in to capture his lips once again, when Ed said, "Guess it's me that has to keep you in check now."

His fingers were playing with the end of Ed's braid, and he gently brought it over his shoulder as he leaned in, pecking him on the lips. "Can you blame me?"

Ed pursed his lips to suppress a smile again. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're irresistible."

He was expecting him to get embarrassed again, to flush a beautiful red and call him a sappy bastard, but he just stared into his eyes, his face turning more serious than amused. He gulped, taking a deep breath as though realising something and breathing a very low, "Fuck."

Before Roy had time to voice his concern, before Ed's emotions had a time to flow through to him, energy crackled through his wrist, burning just sharply enough to make him flinch. Ed flinched at the same time, and they both looked at their respective wrists.

The golden thread looked normal, as though nothing was amiss, but he'd felt it—a heat that had burned through his wrist all the way to his chest.

He looked to Ed, who was blinking at his right wrist, his face uncharacteristically blank.

"What was that?" Roy asked, anxiety beginning to grip his gut. He wasn't sure if what just happened was a good thing or not. He never knew with this stupid bond.

Ed opened his mouth but didn't say anything. His brow furrowed.

"Ed, what was that?" he repeated, because he had a hunch that Ed knew, that he'd just figured something out.

Ed gulped and shook his head. His cheeks flushed and he got off Roy's lap, avoiding his gaze as he cleared his throat. "We should get back to the report."

Roy pursed his lips. "Ed, tell me what that was."

Ed was walking to the couch when he tried shrugging nonchalantly, but Roy could tell he was tense. "Dunno—it just creeped me out, is all."

Roy had a feeling he was lying.

Ed sat on the couch and avoided looking at him while trying to make it seem like he wasn't avoiding looking at him. "We have an hour until lunch, if that's your deadline still."

Roy was not happy about this avoidance, but Ed was right; he needed to write and hand in this stupid report, and getting information out of Ed that he didn't want to offer up was like pulling teeth, so he would do it later.

He'd grill Ed later.

The report took all day.

They'd ended up foregoing lunch as Roy's panic had slowly grown into a truly epic creature slithering in his stomach that made him snap at Ed on more than one occasion. Ed, at least, had seemed begrudgingly accepting of this situation, and though he did snap back sometimes, annoyance reaching a dangerous peak, it hadn't actually escalated into a fight.

And Roy knew that was the only reason that report had been written before the end of the work day.

His perfectionistic tendencies had been screaming at him as he handed the report to the Fuhrer, acting as though he'd been working on it for days, but his standards had dropped significantly for this one. He was just happy to have been able to produce two pages of complete waffle on a subject he knew nothing about.

At least Grumman hadn't seemed to notice anything was amiss. Roy made sure to remark about them having reached a bit of a roadblock in their research, and would report back once they had something of interest to report—which was Roy's eloquent way of saying he was running out of things to write in these damn reports.

The moment they exited that office he felt the whole world lift from his shoulders. Ed must've felt it through the bond, because he looked at him with something akin to pity.

But now Roy had a different mission.

He was still thinking about the bond incident when he unlocked his front door at 6PM. His stomach rumbled, and he decided to try and bribe Ed with Cretan takeaway.

He wanted to know what had happened this morning, what that flair of heat had been. It hadn't been anything coming from Ed, but Ed had seemed to know it was coming. Why else would he look at him so seriously all of a sudden, only for the heat to pulse through his wrist a moment later?

How had he known it was coming? What had he realised?

So many questions, and Roy was determined to get answers out of him tonight.

He walked into the kitchen after Ed, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. Ed was rummaging through the fridge, but the grunt that followed was not a happy one.

"I was gonna cook but we have no food."

Roy smiled. This served his plans just fine. "I was thinking we should order Cretan tonight."

Ed turned, slowly, and narrowed his eyes at him. "What do you want."

Roy raised his eyebrows. "A kebab would be nice."

Ed's eyes narrowed to slits as he slowly shut the fridge door. "As if you don't want mildly spicy chicken noodles with mushrooms, peppers and spring onions."

Roy couldn't quite stop the huff of amused incredulity that Ed knew his Xingese order so well. "What can I say," he drawled, picking up the phone. "I'm a changed man."

Ed watched him the entire time he was on the phone. Suspiciously. Damn, he'd thought they could at least have dinner before Ed caught on with his plans, but apparently a change in meal preferences was suspicious enough. When had Roy become so predictable?

Ed watched him suspiciously through dinner as well. Roy remained nonchalant, keeping the conversation casual, but he had to ease it to the bond somehow.

"We should get Cretan kebabs more often," he remarked absently, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "I can see why they're your favourite."

Ed hummed as he chewed, sauce on the side of his lip. It took everything in him not to reach over and— "Still haven't decided what you want though."

Roy faked hurt. "Must I have something I want to get you your favourite food?"

"Yes."

"You wound me, Edward."

Ed rolled his eyes and wiped his mouth. "Dramatic."

Roy downed his water and then, acting as though something occurred to him, said, "I was thinking…" Ed tensed. "About the reversal array. Will it have to be the same size as the original? Because that was rather tiny."

Ed looked at him, frowning, lips tilted down as he tried to figure out where he was going with this. After a moment, he said, "No, the reversal array will be bigger."

Roy raised a brow in curiosity. That hadn't been what he'd expected him to say. "How so? Does the size have anything to do with its efficacy?"

Ed was still looking at him with a suspicious glint in his eye. "The original array was activated by external energy; the energy of our souls reaching for each other, and then you stepped on it to complete the merge bullshit. But this array will need someone external to activate it to provide that energy; I don't think you'll be able to do it. And for obvious reasons neither can I."

Roy frowned. "And what would that person give, in order to separate our souls?"

Ed pursed his lips, and Roy felt a spark of annoyance through the bond—whether it was at him or the fact that Ed still didn't know what he was fishing for, he wasn't sure. "Haven't figured that out yet."

Roy hummed. Interesting indeed— "So what do you think it would take, for our souls to break the bond themselves?"

Ed went rigid. He stared at him, sceptical, wary, his eyes surveying his nonchalant mask for any cracks. He wouldn't find any. To anyone looking at him, Roy looked innocently curious.

"Dunno," he said flatly.

Now it was Roy's turn to narrow his eyes, just so. "Do you not have any theories?"

Ed shrugged, but it was tense. "It's not what I spend my day thinking about. I'm focusing on the reversal array."

Fair enough. But Roy still thought he knew something he wasn't telling him.

He pursed his lips. Ed now looked at him like he knew he'd won. The little shit. Perhaps he needed to go for a direct approach. "What happened this morning?"

Ed smiled, like he was silently laughing at him. "I told you I don't know."

"And I believe you're lying."

Ed slowly shook his head, his smile turning into a wide grin of amusement. "Is this why we got Cretan, then? Cause you think I know something you don't?"

Roy shifted in his seat. When he said it out loud…"I would've gotten Cretan for you either way." It was the truth, anyway.

Ed stood, walking over to Roy's side of the table until he was right in front of him. Roy turned in his seat to face him, raising a brow in a silent question.

Ed leaned forward, placing his palms on Roy's thighs and looking at him right in the eye. "Do you really think that if I knew how to break the bond, I wouldn't tell you?"

When he put it like that…

Roy pursed his lips. "No, of course not," he said, staring right into those beautiful golden eyes. He took a deep breath. "I trust you." Because that was what Ed wanted of him, and he would try his best to give it.

Ed paused, and then straightened. Roy couldn't read the look on his face. "Good."